And Everything Fell Into Place
by kellyanne
Summary: "You were afraid of me, admit it. Fifteen-year-old Jack Kelly was afraid of me. Now that’s something to tell the grandkids." Just a clip from this fic, lol. (And I know how old Jack is...read it) Jack and Oscar SLASH *beams* Author's Note inside


**And Everything Fell Into Place**

**By** Sweet Anne

**Rating:** PG-13…I don't think there'll be that much cursing. *shrugs* We'll see

**Disclaimer:** Ok…I don't own Newsies. That's obvious.

**Summary:** *sigh* Oscar/Jack…God, what's the world coming to if I write this, lol??? Oh well…I love the pairing and the idea to write this has been eating away at my brain. 

You were always an arrogant kid, you know that? The first time I laid eyes on you, I knew that you'd give me trouble. It was your smirk. So damn conceited. You were proud of that smirk, too, even when you were just a kid. You _knew_ what it did to people. You don't think I know that you'd smile whenever you wanted something, knowing full well that it made people melt at your damn feet. 

For the first few years, I'd watch you in the morning. Just watch. I'd never say a word, mostly because your goddamn smile had the same effect on me that it had on everyone else. I really hated you back then, kid. Still do, but now it's different. Back then, I hated you because you had what you wanted and I didn't. I was stuck with my dumb shit of a brother and Weasel, but you. God, Kelly, you had everything. The looks, the friends. _I _wanted that. Now I could care less. See, now I only want one thing. One person. And it isn't what you're thinking. No, I want this one person to feel pain.

I was sixteen when I first started noticing the way you were changing. I overheard a conversation between two dipshit Manhattan newsies that year. They were both amazed that some scruffy, little fourteen year old had managed to become leader. I couldn't believe it. That's when I stopped looking at you every morning. I started cornering you, beating you. I loved the feeling. You were so much smaller then me that it was really impossible for you to fight back. I loved smacking you around. God, it was the only way I didn't go insane.

A year passed and I turned seventeen, not that you'd know. You've never wondered how old I was. You just cared about where my fist was whenever I was around you. You were afraid of me, admit it. Fifteen-year-old Jack Kelly was afraid of _me_. Now that's something to tell the grandkids. 

When I was seventeen, it all changed. You weren't much bigger, but you were faster. I looked at it like a challenge. Trying to catch you wasn't too hard, but it pissed me off that I had to work to soak you now. You could tell that it pissed me off. When I finally caught you, you smirked, even as my fist connected with your gut. That's when I knew things were changing. It became a nuisance just trying to get you in the mornings. I just gave up, resorting to insults instead of actual beatings. You thought you had won.

It's been a year since the strike. Remember, Kelly?? Morris, Weasel and I got booted from Manhattan? Do you recall that little incident, or were you too busy looking in the mirror at your pretty little face and sexy smirk to notice? I can't wait for the day that your looks fail you, kid. 

Weasel found work at a distribution office in Harlem for the Tribune. Mr. Bennett actually thought that us getting fired was a bunch of horseshit and gave my brother and I jobs too. Living in Harlem does some strange stuff to a guy. See, right after the strike all I could do was think about how much I hated you. Now, after a year in Harlem, I'm ready to act on my anger. I wanted you to know how much you screwed with my life. I would have been so much better off if you had never arrived in Manhattan. Now I wanted you to know just how I felt.

I knew where you sold papers. You stayed in the same area even after the strike, which I found strange. I thought you would've moved somewhere else so you could brag to a different batch of suits about your heroism during the strike. But no. You stayed in the same goddamn spot, which just worked in my favor. You weren't expecting me, so you didn't even have a chance to run. No, you weren't fast this time, Kelly.

As I pushed you into the alley, you smirked. That pissed me off like you wouldn't believe. You saw it in my eyes and then a low laugh rose in your throat. I glared and slammed you against the wall. That wiped the smile of your face.

"Ya back, Oscar? Ain't that nice," You said, looking right into my eyes with a cold glare. 

"Settling unfinished business of mine," I said, reaching down with one hand to grab the gun I had in my pocket. That's another thing about Harlem that you might want to know, Kelly. Guns are found in abundance there.

I felt your body stiffen when you saw the gun. You thought I had been kidding around, hadn't you? That's the thing you never understood about me, Kelly. I _don't _kid around. 

"W…what are ya doin' Oscar? Don't do nothin' stupid," I loved how your voice quivered. I was in control and you knew it. 

"Ya scared, Kelly? Scared I might accidentally pull the trigger and blow your pretty face away, huh?" I can see the answer in your eyes, Kelly. You aren't scared of dying. No, you're just scared of looking bad after you die. So damn arrogant.

"Oscar…just put down the gun and we'll talk, ok? Um…we'll…"

"Now this is interestin'. Tryin' to talk your way out of this, huh? Nah…I want to see you beg, kid."

That's when your arrogant streak really showed. You tipped your chin up defiantly, even though it brought the gun deeper into the flesh around your throat, and said, "No."

I smiled. It was hard not to. I just couldn't believe that you were stupid enough to say something like that to a guy with a gun, "Ya ain't usin' your brain, _Cowboy_."

"Maybe not," You said indignantly. I smirk before kneeing you in the stomach so you were on the ground at my feet. Then I aimed the gun. I hadn't cocked the hammer yet, but I was saving that. I wanted to push you over the edge with fear and you were just too damn cocky at the moment. You didn't think I'd do it.

I straddled your body, keeping the gun pointed, "Not scared, _Cowboy_?" I asked, kicking your side. You closed your eyes, like that would make everything go away. It wasn't a fairy-tale, Kelly. You weren't getting a happy ending.

I saw the fear in your eyes when you looked up, questioning me silently. I smiled just like you always did and then cocked the gun. The sound echoed through the alley and I knew it was the scariest sound you'd ever hear. Your eyes widened and I saw the sheer terror that I had wanted to create. God, it felt great. 

"Scared yet?" I asked harshly, my eyes narrowing as I crouched down over you, the gun pressed against your stomach. You tried squirming out from under me, but that only made me climb up higher, slamming the end of the gun against your temple. 

For some reason, you calmed. I mean, your body actually relaxed, which made no sense. You were on the brink of death, Kelly. You should have been seeing your life flashing before your fucking eyes!! 

"Shoot me," You stated simply, taking me completely by surprise. You could've knocked the gun out of my hand at that moment if you had wanted to. You didn't, though. You just pushed up a bit so you were sort of sitting. That made things awkward since I didn't know if I should back up. I didn't like having that mouth of yours so close to me.

"What??" I finally asked, blinking a few times before shoving the gun back against your head. You looked up angrily at me. 

"I said shoot me. Pull the damn trigger, Oscar. Spare me the trouble of doing it myself," What the hell was I supposed to say to that?? This was not going as I'd planned. You weren't supposed to _want_ to die!! God, couldn't you ever cooperate??

"What the hell is wrong with you?? You _want_ me to shoot you?" You glared at me like I had committed a mortal sin. Sure, that was my original intent, but still, I hadn't even done anything wrong _yet_!!

"You wanted to shoot me. I'm just making it easy and not fighting," You said, making it sound like the most simplistic thing in the world. God, I had known you were arrogant and completely obnoxious, but insane? No, that was something that I hadn't added to the list I used to describe you.

The tables were turned and you knew it. See, if I shot you now, I'd be giving you what you wanted and I wasn't about to do that. You _always_ got what you wanted.

"No," I said simply, releasing the hammer so it clicked back into safety. Your eyes narrowed even more and your breathing got heavier. Angry now, aren't you, "I'm not doing anything that works in your favor."

"Then give me the gun!! I'll do it myself!"

"Why should I?"

You hesitated, licking your lips, "Because I hate living when I can't have what I want."

I almost laughed. That was just about the most arrogant thing I'd ever heard you say. It reminded me of a twelve-year-old boy whining about getting ripped off after buying papers…oh wait. That was you too, "Aww…poor Cowboy. Not getting what you want."

"You don't get it. Just give me the goddamn gun!!"

"What's driving you to suicide, Cowboy?? Some peach refusin' to screw you, eh?" I said mockingly. If I couldn't do what I originally intended, then I'd at least damage your dangerously oversized ego.

You continued to glare and I started getting angry again. I wanted a goddamn answer. I cocked the gun again without thinking and pressed it to your throat.

"You."

My brow furrowed. God, I was losing it. Had he just said…

"Yeah, you heard me right, you bastard. You're driving me to suicide." You sat up again, my gun still at your throat, only you were a lot closer now.

"You've…" I started, releasing the hammer for the second time. What happened next was a blur, but the gun was tossed aside. I think I was the one to throw it. Not sure. All I really remember is your lips on mine. God, I didn't understand why I wasn't killing you for kissing me, but I couldn't find it in me to break away. It all made sense. Why you always harassed me. Why you made sure I never had a peaceful moment whenever you were around. Why you could always tell what mood I was in. Everything fell into place now that I had your lips moving over mine, one of your hands in my hair and the other dangerously low on my back.

You broke away, a cocky grin spreading across lips that were swollen, "Thanks."

"You're such an arrogant bastard," I muttered, pulling myself off of you and sitting against the alley wall. I rubbed the back of my neck and glanced over to you. You were staring right back at me, a smile warming your face. It wasn't a smirk or a grin. No, it was a true smile. I couldn't help but return it.

"Hey, you don't seem to mind the whole 'arrogant bastard' thing," You said jokingly, crawling to sit beside me. I never saw you as the type to crawl. Then again, I never saw you as the type to kiss other guys, especially not ones you were supposed to hate.

"Now what do we do?" I asked, resting my head on my knees. I felt your hand on my back and nearly shuddered. You shouldn't be allowed to make me feel like that. I wasn't supposed to like being touched by you. I had wanted you dead ten minutes ago, for Christ's sake!! 

"What do you want to do?" He asked. I growled. You can't answer a question with a question! I was angry again and you could tell. Your idea of calming me down was kissing my neck, which, I'll admit, felt pretty damn good. 

"How about we play it by ear," You murmured into my neck. I shrugged and stood. You did too. I turned to face you, seeing that smirk back on your lips. It was different now, though. It was for me. _Only _for me.

            "I'm gonna' go, ok?" I said, eyeing you and your smirk. God, I was melting into it again.

            "One last thing," You said, pulling me to you and kissing me roughly. I liked the way your lips felt.

            I turned away and began walking back into the street, "See you around, kid." I meant it, too. I _wanted _to see you around. Not to hurt you or taunt you. Just to see you. See that face. That smile. You.

**Author's note**: What do you guys think?? Jack and Oscar, lol. Don't you love the pairing?? I do, so there!!!!

 **Another Author's Note**: A lot of stuff happens in alleys in my stories. Read Do You Remember. Race and Spot's first time together is in an alley. And Sam's raped in an alley in Behind This Mask. Oufff…I must have a fixation with alleys or something…should go to a therapist…or maybe I'll just joke around with Lute. She's having a soda can baby, so my problems can't be much worse then hers, lol.

      Now I'm off to write in some other fic…its one in the morning…but I'm not tired MUAH HA HA 


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